


Home

by SarahW43



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Harry Styles - Freeform, Home by One Direction, Inspired by Music, Letters, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, Poetry, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahW43/pseuds/SarahW43
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter from Louis to Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Harry,

House and home are two words that are technically synonyms. The difference between them is the connotation of the word. A house is a building for humans to inhabit. A home is "a place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family."

Home is more than a structure where we put all our shit. Home is memories, smells, and emotions. Home can be the perfume your mom use to wear when you were little or a memory of running around with your friends.

Home, to me, isn't a structure made from wood and concrete, but the structure of your bones and soft skin. Home is the hard angles of your jawline and the soft curve of your waist. It's your eyelashes tickling my cheeks and your hands running up my spine. It's your big feet and your lanky limbs that can't seem to keep you up.

Home is the way you smell after we get back from a concert. It's you pulling me into your chest and tilting my face up to kiss you. It's me dragging you to the hotel room and ripping your clothes off. It's me kissing and touching every inch of your body. Home is the look on your face right before I scream your name out.

Home is the way I fit in all the empty spaces of your life. The silent times when it's just you and me. The phone calls in different time zones. It's your voice in the morning, on the phone, moaning my name, and rough with sleep at night.

Home is half a closet full of patterned shirts and glittery boots. It's Yves Saint Laurent, Gucci, and other designer brands surrounding my Adidas jackets and my Vans. It's pretty silk headscarves you tie your hair up with and then tie me up with later. It's tight jeans and dangling necklaces that emphasize your collar bones. Home is the familiarity of sharing clothes.

Home is your dimple showing because you're smiling so big. It's your eyes finding mine at any given time. It's the way I can feel your muscles tighten when you throw me over your shoulder. It's your laugh I can hear from the other room. It's making my tea the way I like it in the morning and again at night. Home is the signs me know so we can speak privately in a world where we can't breathe without a journalist writing about it.

Home is Los Angeles and watching you bathe under the sun. It's seeing our friends there and being able to hold hands in front of them. It's London where your cheeks and nose are tinted red. Where your lips feel chapped when I kiss you. It's Doncaster when you hang out with my sisters and kiss my mom on the cheek. It's Cheshire where your mom babies us and brings us tea every couple of hours. It's all the places in between where we made new memories between ourselves and with the boys.

Home is finding your shoes, jacket, wallet, and keys scattered through the living room, but you still insisting on telling everyone I'm the messy one. It's all the meals you've cooked me over the years and my only cooking experience of chicken wrapped in parma ham. Home is staying up until three in the morning making cookie batter, but eating it before we can bake it.

Home is you nudging me in the ribs before you go to tell a joke. It's too many texts ending in "loooooove yooooou Loooooou" and "xxxxxxoxxx". It's your slapstick humor at times and at others your deadpanned sarcasm. Home is our complimentary tattoos.

Home is late at night when we're whispering our future together, "We'll have a little boy and a little girl."

"Only two Haz? I'm shocked."

Home is wedding plans we tell one another and you keeping them in a little journal you don't think I know about. Home is cuddling in your arms and skyping Gemma.

Home is all the obnoxious things you do. Home was finding you and everything making sense. It's like I was renting houses before I stumbled upon one I had never seen before and after the first step under the threshold, I finally felt like I found a home.

Love Always,

Lou xx

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed it. This is my [tumblr](http://butweneverprayed.tumblr.com/) if you wanna shoot me a message or talk about Larry.


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